One More
by Jenny70529
Summary: How will Greg convince her to stay? Sandle.


_Author's Notes: Okay, this is very much not my style. But I'll ask you to read anyway. :D. Please? And review. Please? This is a hard story to classify, since it does have a bit of GSR in it...well, mentionings of it. There's a lot of implied Sandle, and Sandle-flirting too, so be patient and stick with me. Have I ever written something that didn't turn out to be Sandle? _

_Okay, now that I've got your attention...This isn't going to be a long story, I was going to make it a one-shot, but I just couldn't fit it all into one part, so now it's a two-part. No, I'm not neglecting my other stories...well, yes, I am...but I just had to write this and get it out of the way to work on my WIP's. Enjoy!! _

_Jenny_

**One More:**

There was no doubt about it, Sara loved to visit Greg's apartment.

It wasn't so much the eccentric collection of music and movie memorabilia mixed with the nerdy science facet of Greg's lifestyle, as much as it was the warmth that emanated from the cozy blue walls of the feisty CSI's one bedroom home. It was such a drastic transition from Grissom's cold, sterile townhouse where she spent so much of the rest of her time. She loved being able to sink deep down into his worn brown sofa, to be surrounded by pictures of his friends and family, to slide her feet under the yellow and maroon afghan his grandparents had given him as a baby and just be able to feel the love that had gone into each stitch.

She didn't have any of her childhood possessions, and she wasn't even sure she'd want one. Her own childhood had been nothing to cherish near and dear to her heart, and the less she thought of it, the better she felt. It was clear Greg's childhood had been the opposite, filled with trophies and mementos from every significant event he had suffered through or triumphed from.

"Bottle or cup?" Greg asked, his head poking through the kitchen door, "The bottle's cold, and I just restocked my fancy beer mugs."

Sara smiled widely, calling out that she'd take her beer straight from the bottle, then worked on removing herself from the heavy winter garments she had been forced to wear on this blistery winter night. On any given December day in Las Vegas, the temperature rarely got below 55, the night air only hovering over the freezing mark, but this week they had been slammed with a severe cold front. It wasn't quite cold enough to snow just yet, but the roads were already starting to ice quite a bit. Laying her scarf on top of her jacket and sweater, she nestled herself in between Greg's sofa cushions and his throw blanket, which always seemed to be in use by someone, despite the warmth of his heater. She hadn't been in weather this cold since she was at school in Boston, and she wasn't quite sure yet if she missed the burning cheeks and the icy wind.

Kicking her boots to the floor, she graciously accepted the beer from Greg, almost wishing she hadn't taken off her gloves as the icy bottle sent a chill down her spine. She smiled warmly at Greg, who was holding on to his "fancy beer mug"--a red plastic cup--and motioned to the space beside her, "I won't bite, and I'm sure you could use a bit of this blanket."

"Sure." Greg replied, sliding a few magazines off the sofa as he moved to take a seat next to her, "Thanks for bringing my package by, I don't know if I could have lasted three more days at home knowing my coffee was just sitting there, possibly being picked over by everybody and anybody in the lab."

"Possibly? I nearly had to bitch-slap Catherine to get it out of the break room." Sara joked, taking another swig of her beer, "Another three days and you would have been left with an empty box. On days as cold as these have been, nothing refreshes you like a cup of Greg's special blend." She tilted her bottle towards him, "In fact, I can't believe you aren't making any right now."

"Out of filters...I should have had you pick some up." Greg replied, a scowl on his face, "I usually have a spare pack of them, but I guess I was already using my spare."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "Sure, you just didn't want to share."

"When have I ever not shared my coffee with you?" Greg replied, "Those other guys, they can drink the motor oil the lab provides, but I'm always willing to give you the good stuff."

Sara blushed slightly, covering it up by taking another drink, "Thanks for the beer, though. We've all been killing ourselves working this week, I had to twist Grissom's arm to let me leave a little early to come over here."

"Weren't you off Monday and Tuesday?" Greg asked, looking away as Sara's surprised eyes rose to his. "Well, it's not like I'm stalking you, but I did check the schedule out before I left."

Sara's eyes twinkled as she retorted, "Oh, sure, you're not stalking me? So tell me what days Nick or Warrick has off. Or Hodges."

"Saturday, Nick has Saturday."

"Because you two are going out to a bar or something, that doesn't count." Sara replied with a laugh, "I heard him telling Wendy yesterday that you two were going to check out that new club by his house." She took another sip of beer before rolling her eyes and adding, "I was supposed to be off Monday and Tuesday, but it's been one of those weeks where the calls don't stop. I actually ended up working a Double Monday night, and nearly a double Tuesday night. I'm starting to forget what my bed actually looks like."

Greg placed his cup on the coffee table, on top of a gaming magazine, "Well that really sucks, Sara, I mean, it's not like you normally take your days off anyway, but to have to pull overtime? That's crazy. At the rate you're going, you'll be maxed out by the end of this week."

"Says the one who has probably been sleeping 12 or more hours per day?" Sara questioned, placing her bottle next to his cup, "So what does Greg Sanders do when he's away on play-time from the lab?"

Greg motioned towards the television, "Catching up on quality PS2 time, checking my email, sleeping, of course...I also played tourist for a day...you know, there are still parts of the strip I haven't seen yet?"

"Not even for work-purposes?"

"Not even."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "Wow, you've been busy..."

Greg kicked her slightly as she started to laugh, "Okay, so you almost said that with a straight face. Tell me, Sara, what do _you_ do on vacation?"

"I don't know..." Sara replied, shrugging slightly, "I rarely take my whole week, but the days I do take, I clean, rearrange my furniture and stuff...catch up on reading..."

Greg snorted slightly, rising to his feet, "That does sound a lot like something you'd do on vacation...next time you take one, call me and I'll show you how to really kick back. I'm going to get another, want one?"

"Not for me, I'll need to be able to drive home."

"I've seen you drive after more than just two beers." Greg pointed out, raising an eyebrow, "You're not a lightweight...what's going on?"

Sara shrugged, "It's slick on the roads, I don't want to take my judgement for granted and kill someone...and don't even suggest that I sleep here."

"I didn't say anything." Greg replied with mock innocence, "Did you hear me utter a single word?"

Sara rolled her eyes, "You don't have to, I know you well enough to hear you thinking it."

"Well, since you're not going to drink, how about going to get something to eat with me? All I've had for days is pizza and Chinese, save me from obesity?" Greg questioned, popping open another beer, "Unless you have to go back to work?"

Sara rose, reluctantly leaving the warm haven she had found on the sofa, and grabbed her sweater, "Warm food sounds heavenly right now...are you sure I'm not keeping you from..." She glanced around with a smirk, "Final Fantasy and Splinter Cell?"

"Haha, very funny." Greg replied, digging through his clothes basket until coming up with his own sweater, "Down by work, there's this new Mexican place, have you tried it out yet?"

Sara shook her head, buttoning up her coat and reaching for her scarf, "No, but I'm willing to give it a shot." She glanced at his clothing, "Have you been outside today? You'll need a coat."

"I'll be fine." Greg replied, grabbing his keys, "I'll drive."

"And they accuse you of not being a gentleman..."

--

"What?" Greg asked impatiently as he stared at Sara's mischievous smile, "What's so funny?"

Sara pointed her fork at Greg's plate, a smile tugging on her lips, "It's just...that's the healthiest meal I've seen you eat in...forever. What happened to the cheeseburger and fries?"

"So when we're eating junk, you tell me I'm clogging my arteries and I'm going to die at a young age from a heart attack...and then when I order a healthy stir-fry, you tease me because I'm eating too healthily? Do you realize how convoluted that is?" Greg retorted, "You don't see me picking on you because you're eating a hamburger made out of tofu or beans or soy or something nasty like that."

"You're used to that. I don't think I'll ever get used to you eagerly eating rice, asparagus, broccoli, and all of those other veggies. It's just not _you_." Sara replied, "I thought you'd like break out in hives and melt if green, leafy vegetables came near you."

"I eat green, leafy stuff all the time."

"Lettuce on your cheeseburger doesn't count, Greg."

"As if you're so healthy." Greg grumbled, taking another heaping fork full of food into his mouth, "Hibbocrib."

"What was that?" Sara teased, "Didn't your Mommy ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?"

Greg took a sip of his soda, enunciating as he spoke, "Hypocrite. I called you a Hyp-o-crite. You often eat stuff a lot worse than I do."

"Oh, I never said I didn't." Sara replied sweetly. "So tell me about this club you and Nick are going--"

Her sentence was cut off by her cell phone, and with a scowl, she flipped it open, growling, "Sidle."

"_Sara, it's me. Where are you?"_

"Eating at Picantes with Greg. What's up Gris?" Sara replied with a weary sigh. It wasn't often her boyfriend called just to check up on her, so more likely than not, she was about to embark on another long shift.

"_Am I interrupting something?"_

Sara glanced back at Greg, then smiled wryly, "Maybe, maybe not...what do you need?"

"_Can't a man call just to say hello?"_

"You can, but you don't." Sara retorted, "Do you need me or not?"

"_Now, now honey...not in front of Greg. I was just calling to tell you that I just sent Warrick home, he just finished his fourth straight shift. Nick and Catherine are out on a 419, and I'm working on finishing up the double homicide Warrick and I were working on. I'm going to try to keep you out of the picture, but if something else comes in..."_

"I know, I know. Thanks for the warning."

"_Keep your phone on."_

Sara hung up, shoving her phone into her purse as she flashed a smile at Greg, "Don't worry, I don't have to go...he was just calling to tell me I may have to in a bit. Apparently, Warrick is human and needs to, like, sleep and stuff."

"Says who?" Greg joked, laying his fork on his empty plate, "I wonder if their deserts are any good here."

"Ah, now there's the Greg I know and love." Sara teased, "Let me guess, something filled with chocolate and ice cream, topped with whipped cream and a cherry?"

"Is that an offer?"

Sara was silent for a moment before she began to choke on her water, her eyes wide, "Greg!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to nearly kill you..." Greg replied, reaching over to pat her on the back, "You okay?"

Sara nodded, her face a crimson red, "Just threw me off guard."

"It shouldn't."

"You're right, I should be used to it by now." Sara retorted, taking another sip of her water as she tried to get rid of the tickle in her throat, "You're insane."

Greg shrugged with an innocent smile, motioning towards their waitress for the bill, "Since you don't have to go back to work, would you like to pick up a movie and keep me company for a bit?"

"Sure." Sara replied, not quite ready to give up the carefree, witty Greg for her serious boyfriend quite yet. Besides, his cozy couch was practically calling her name, "What kind of movie do you have in mind?"

Greg glanced at the slip the waitress had brought over, throwing a few bills down on the table and standing, "Whatever you want, it's up to you."

"And they say chivalry is dead..."

Greg slid on his coat, raising his eyebrow slightly, "Everyone keeps telling me what "they" say, but I never have been able to figure out who "they" are."

Sara rolled her eyes, her laughter filling the air as they made their way back into the icy darkness of Las Vegas, "You're incorrigible."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

--

"If you let me sit on this sofa for one more minute, you'll have to let me sleep over." Sara yawned, stretching slightly, yet unwilling to move from her spot under Greg's afghan, "If I had one this comfortable, I'd never use my bed."

Greg shrugged, "Feel free to stay the night...I won't even use up my bank of pick-up lines." Seeing Sara's skeptical expression, he added, "Seriously, you need the rest. You look beat."

"Thanks Greg." Sara smirked, "You always know just what to say to a woman." She fought a yawn, causing her eyes to water slightly, "You're right though, I _am_ beat."

Greg motioned towards the hall closet, "I've got pillows and blankets. And I can be a gentleman, you said so yourself. Friends don't let their friends drive tired."

"I thought it was 'Friends don't let friends drive drunk'?" Sara questioned, a smile on her face as Greg tucked the afghan around her feet.

Greg shrugged, nodding towards the kitchen, "I can arrange that..."

"You're horrible!" Sara laughed, "Just horrible. No wonder you haven't settled down yet."

"_That_ isn't the reason I haven't settled down, the reason is--"

Greg was cut off by Sara's phone, and with an irritated sigh, she bent over to reach for her purse, "Sidle."

"_Hey, I need you at the MGM Grand. There was an armed robbery, the body count is still undetermined."_

Sara yawned tiredly, rubbing her eyes, "Can't you pull someone else?" She asked, almost whining, "I'm exhausted, Grissom."

"_I'm sorry, honey, but it's all hands on deck. Are you still with Greg? Tell him that if he wants to earn brownie points, he can come in too." _The line was silent for a moment, before Grissom continued, _"Oh, and be careful, the roads are slick out there...part of the city are reporting snowfall."_

"Great, thanks." Sara replied, slamming her phone shut with a bitter sigh, "Some idiot tried to rob a casino, all hands on deck. You lucky, lucky man, on vacation...you know, he tried to get me to recruit you to come in for this."

"Now _that's_ funny." Greg retorted with a smile, "I don't need to kiss ass that badly. Why can't you just tell him you can't work? Technically he did tell you that you could leave, and you _have_ put in your hours for the week..."

Sara rubbed her eyes sleepily, stifling another yawn, "You just want me to sleep with you tonight."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"A lot, considering the amount of brownie points you'd need once Grissom found out you were trying to convince his girlfriend to spend the night with you."

It wasn't until Greg's jaw dropped that Sara realized what secret she had just divulged. With a soft moan, she let her head fall back onto Greg's sofa. What had she done?

_TBC_


End file.
